After Ten Years
by luin-lote
Summary: After ten years separated by the war, Harry and Draco finally meets again. HarryDraco slash


_Disclaimer:_ Harry Potter is owned, and created by the wonderful JK Rowling. I'm just playing with two of her boys in this story. A short bit at the start of this story is coming from my English textbook at school, but there is no references to who wrote it.

_Title:_ After Ten Years  
  
_Author: _Luin-lote

_Pairings:_ Harry/Draco  
  
_Rating:_ PG-13  
  
_Summary:_After ten years separated by the war, Harry and Draco finally meets again.  
  
_Warnings:_ Slash. If you have a problem with that, I bid you to go away, while I feel really sorry for you.  
  
_A/N: _The beginning of this story is taken from an assignment I got in my English-class at school. We got the first part of the story, and were supposed to write an ending. I changed the start quite a bit, so that it worked with the wonderful world of Harry Potter, and then I started to write the rest of the story. This is the result. (My English teacher looked at me a bit oddly for a while, after I'd let her read this. I can't imagine why! ::g::)  
  
I hope you'll enjoy!

**After Ten Years**  
  
The cop moved along the street, looking strong and important. This was the way he always moved. He was not thinking of how he looked. There were a few people on the street to see him. It was only about ten at night, but it was cold. And there was a wind with a little rain in it.  
  
He stopped at doors as he walked along, to be sure that it was closed for the night. Now and then he turned and looked up and down the street. He was a fine cop, watchful, guarding the peace.  
  
People in this part of the little muggle-city went home early. Now and then you might see the lights of a small shop or a restaurant. But most of the doors belonged to business places that had been closed hours ago.  
  
Then the cop suddenly slowed his walk. Near the door of a darkened shop a man was standing. As the cop walked towards him, the man spoke quickly, "It's all right, officer," he said. "I'm waiting for a friend. Ten years ago we agreed to meet here tonight. It sounds strange to you, doesn't it? I'll explain if you want to be sure that everything's all right. Ten years ago there was a restaurant where this shop stands, 'Big Joe Brady's restaurant."  
  
"It was here until five years ago," said the cop.  
  
The man near the door had a slightly tanned face, and black hair that had been flattened against his head by the small raindrops that were still falling steady, and the dampness of the air. The hair was lying flat over his forehead, hanging over most of his eyes, which were brightly green.  
  
"Ten years ago tonight," said the man, "I had dinner here with my friend."The dark-haired man paused, fiddling nervously with a pendant he had around his neck, as if he was waiting for a reaction, but as none came, he continued, "He was my best friend, and the best fellow in the world. When we were young we always fought, but the older we got we saw that we had more and more in common. At sixteen, we were the best of friends. But I..." The man paused again, taking a sharp breath, and then started again, "I had things to do. We both had. And when we were seventeen, we both had to go separate ways.  
  
"We agreed that we would meet here again in ten years. We thought that in ten years we would know what kind of men we were, and what future waited for us."  
  
"It sounds interesting," said the cop. "A long time between meetings, it seems to me. Have you heard from your friend since you parted?"  
  
"Yes. We did write for a while, but then it went impossible, for various reasons, and after about two years, we stopped. I moved around a lot, and I moved quickly. But I know that he will meet me here if he can. He was as true as any man in the world. He'll never forget. I came many miles to stand here tonight. But I'll be glad about that if my friend comes too."  
  
The waiting man took out a fine, elegant silver watch, with green jewels on the hands, and on the numbers. "Three minutes before ten," he said. "It was ten at night when we said good-bye here at the restaurant door."  
  
"You were successful in life, weren't you?" The cop said, looking at the expensive looking watch, and the silver dragon that was hanging around his neck.  
  
For the first time since the cop stopped to talk to him, the dark-haired mans face lit up in a tired smile, "Yes. Yes, I think I were. Even though I thought everything was hopeless for a while, it all worked out in the end."  
  
The cop then took a step or two, trusting the other man completely now. "I'll go on my way," he said. "I hope your friend comes all right. If he isn't here at ten, are you going to leave?"  
  
"I am not!" said the other. "I'll wait for another hour, at least. If he is alive on earth, he will be here by that time. Good night, officer."  
  
"Good night," said the cop, and walked away, trying doors as he went.  
  
There was now a cold, heavy rain falling, and the wind was stronger. The few people walking along that street were hurrying, trying to keep warm. And at the door of the shop stood the man that had travelled a long, long way to meet a friend. Such a meeting could not be certain. But he waited.  
  
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long coat came hurrying across the street. He went directly to the waiting man.  
  
"Is that you, Harry?" he asked doubtfully. He had stopped on the sidewalk, looking into the shadows under the door in front of him.  
  
"Draco?" cried Harry at the door. He would've recognized that voice anywhere, he would recognize his voice anytime. He only asked in pure shock, and in great surprise. He was there; he really was. Draco Malfoy. Draco. His Draco.  
  
The first wizard he ever met. His best friend. His first lover. His only lover.  
  
Harry stepped out, making him stand opposite Draco in the heavy rain. They were a few feet away from each other.  
  
_It's him. It really is._ Harry thought as he stared at Draco, wide eyed. He looked at the slightly taller man. It was the same face. Pale, and pointed, and a little pink from the cold... and maybe something else.  
  
The blond hair was plastered on his head, on his forehead, around his cheeks and temple. The grey eyes were almost glowing in the darkened street.  
  
Harry's eyes scanned the face over and over again, oblivious to that he was being examined the same way himself, by the blonde.  
  
"It's been a long time," The blonde finally choked out, his voice thick with emotion.  
  
A nod was all he received, and then the black-haired, shorter man took a step towards him, and Draco continued, "Too long."  
  
As soon as the words left the other man's mouth, Harry felt two fingers placing themselves on the upper part of his left arm, and he saw Draco take a step forward. There were less than a foot between them now.  
  
Every raindrop on the blond mans face was thoroughly examined by the raven- haired man's green eyes. Harry felt the two fingers trail upwards, and even though it was the barest of touches, he felt, through his jacket, the touch that warmed the whole arm. He felt his skin burn where the fingers had touched through the thick fabric.  
  
Finally, Harry managed to speak, his tears not visible, as the rain was still pouring down freely, "I have missed you so much!"  
  
In a moment, the fair-haired man had removed the distance between them, and landed in a tight embrace. Harry held Draco around the chest, under Draco's arms, gripping at the back of the soaked trench coat. Draco holding Harry around the neck as if he was his only anchor in a storming ocean.  
  
They were both trembling... or actually, shaking is more accurate. Shaking with nerves, trembling with joy, quivering with tears and trembling with relief, by the fact that they were finally back home. Back where they belonged. Back in each others arms.  
  
After a long time they parted from their long, warm embrace, both lifting their heads, which resulted in that their faces were now only inches apart.  
  
Harry drew his hand downwards Draco's left arm, over the drenched coat. The heavy fabric didn't stop Draco from feeling the light touch, and he shivered, and gave a light gasp, which resulted in that their faces came even closer, eyes meeting in a gaze that sent sparks flying around them, almost lighting the whole street up.  
  
Draco took his hand and put it on Harry's cheek. It was unbelievably cold, the fingers felt like cubes of ice, but Harry didn't flinch, or jerk backwards. Instead, he turned into the touch, brushing his cheek against the cold palm.  
  
Draco leaned closer, making their noses touch. "Harry," he whispered.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, and murmured something indistinct back, parting his lips, feeling warm breaths on his frost-bitten face.  
  
Harry felt a warm tongue touch the tip of his nose, capturing a drop of rainwater. That move was the final. That touch made it too much. He'd waited for so long now. Too long.  
  
He made Draco turn his head, and they finally met in a feverish kiss. A kiss full of passion, a kiss full of promises. Kisses filled with longing, yearning - and love.  
  
At the beginning, they were only kissing carefully, innocently. Then they became hungrier, more demanding, and more desperate. Wanting more, Harry licked at Draco's upper lip, and was immediately allowed entrance.  
  
The kiss lasted for a long, long time, mouths tasting, exploring, tongues teasing, battling for dominance.  
  
This was what they'd waited for all along. When they were forced to separate after Hogwarts, when Draco was going to work for the Order of the Phoenix, pretending to be a Death Eater. As Dumbledore, for their own safety, made them promise not to see each other again, for as long as the war continued. Their last night together had they shared a dinner at this restaurant, and then they had promised that they would see each other here again, in exactly ten years. If they were both alive, they'd be waiting for so long. And they had. They were here now, both of them.  
  
They kept kissing outside, not ever wanting to let go. Refusing to let go of the man they'd waited for since that night, exactly ten years ago. 

Four hours later, they were sitting newly bathed, and warmed up on the floor in Harry's hotel room, a blanket around them, roasting marshmallows in the fire place. They were curled up in each other's arms, Harry leaning his head against Draco's shoulder. Harry was roasting Draco's marshmallow, remembering exactly how he wanted it, just a bit warmed up at the top. Draco was making Harry's own marshmallow at the same time, knowing that Harry wanted it brown, slightly burnt in the edges, before he wanted to eat it.  
  
They had talked about everything. Everything they could remember from their ten years apart. Not many of these memories were good, as they were memories from a time in war. A war that Harry had put to an end only three months ago, by killing Voldemort.  
  
Harry had talked about the deaths of Ron and Hermione. Lupin. Sirius. Hagrid, and everyone else that they had lost.  
  
Draco had talked about the time amongst the Death-Eaters. Talked about everything he'd been forced to see. With a shiver, he had showed Harry his dark mark. The mark that now barely could be seen.  
  
There were still so many things they needed to talk about, things that needed to be said. But for now, they relaxed in the warmth radiating from the others' body, knowing that they now were safe, for the first time in over ten years.  
  
And, for at least the millionth time that evening, Harry snuggled closer, turning his face into the crook of the other man's neck, trailing small kisses along the way, making Draco shiver in delight.  
  
"I've," Kiss. "Missed," Kiss. "You," Kiss. "So," Kiss. "Much," said Harry in between kisses.  
  
Throwing his head backwards, revealing all of his throat and neck to the other man's ravishing lips, Draco breathed, "I've missed... you... too."  
  
Suddenly Harry stopped in mid movement, and for a long moment, he was frozen to the spot. Then he looked up again, clear green eyes meeting soft, misty grey ones. "What will we do now?" he asked. "I don't know if I can... I don't want to..." he trailed off, not knowing how to form the sentence that he wanted to say.

A worried expression graced the other man's handsome face. "What do you mean?" Draco asked worriedly, his grey eyes resembling silver in the light from the fireplace.  
  
Harry, not wanting to see the pained and hurt look in those eyes, immediately found the words he'd searched for earlier, and said carefully, "I don't think I can leave you again."  
  
Draco's expression softened, and not until the man relaxed back in the armchair, did Harry notice how tense he'd been the whole day.  
  
With a beautiful, heart felt smile, and a twinkle in his eyes, Draco spoke softly, "After 10 years without you, did you ever think I would let you go again?"  
  
_The End._  
  
_A/N:_ Okay, This may have been a little bit confusing, but I hope you liked it!  
  
And I've heard from a reliable source that reviewing is really, really good for your health! ::wink, wink:: So please, send me a review!


End file.
